Revelations: Donnie & April
by Jay Jones
Summary: After months of coupledom, April confronts her deepest feelings about Donatello, and decides that she wants to take their relationship to the next level.
1. Prologue

_**A/N:** I'm warming back into this story as I prepare its follow-up, which will be posted as a separate, distinctly titled fic. I hope you'll follow it, Sweet Readers, and review as you like! Getting feedback from this amazing FF community is a rush and deeply gratifying! :-)_

**Prologue - ****_Inspirations_**

This evening April had trained as intensely as she could. Her demons only seemed to fade to dark when her mind was forced to focus on other, more urgent things such as wielding a weapon, tumbling away from phantom attackers, and pressing her muscles to their maximum. The music pummeling through her earbuds into her skull bones drove her to work as far past her limits as she could muster in the comfort of the Lair's well-equipped dojo.

After the better part of an hour running battle-forms, shuttle-runs and free-weight circuits, April knelt panting, sweaty and exhilarated beneath Master Splinter's great tree. The endorphins coursing through her bloodstream made her feel alive, powerful and capable, filled with hope, possibility – and lust. Her body thrummed with want.

Cue Donatello, who upon hearing the silence popped his head into the room to see if April's evening training session was finally done. April was aware of how the oblique light of the room must be gleaming off her sweat-slicked skin to highlight her toned muscles. She inhaled deeply before gathering herself up and walking over to meet Donnie at the door. Quietly, conspiratorially, ninja and kunoichi exited the dojo together.

In the dark corridor leading from the dojo, April stopped, pressed Donnie up against the wall, and stared him squarely in the eyes while she trailed her warm, sweat-stained hand down his plastron. Her fingers paused just a few inches from his groin, hovering there as she leaned into his left ear and whispered thickly, "_Someday, I want to know what you feel like, what you look like…What you__** taste**__ like_."

The impact of the lusty teen's words hit Donatello with a percussive force, like a bass drum sounding within his carapace. His blood pounded between his legs. It astounded him that he could even manage a gulp.

As quickly as the moment had started, April turned away and slouched toward the room the Turtles had set up for her when she overnighted in the Lair. April hoped that her gamble would pay off – she was daring herself as much as Donatello to want more of their romance. She found herself traveling to a darker, richer place not only in her daydreams but also at night, alone with herself, in bed.

Donnie would never admit it, but with his room so near April's, he'd realized to his delight and frustration that the Lair's walls weren't as thick as he'd once assumed them to be. And he hungered...and kept his own moans to a whisper.


	2. Chapter 1

_I think that the TMNT 2012 Donatello and April story arc is probably so endearing because at its core their romance is about being known, accepted and loved for who you are (regardless of whether your skin is green). We can all relate to those themes, I think. _

_I've followed TMNT for a lot of years but lack back-of-my-hand knowledge of the Turtleverse. For this creative experiment, I may unknowingly go against TMNT canon: my apologies in advance to die-hard fans. My aim was to stay true to April and Donnie while exploring a really tricky subject: what happens when they feel so strongly about each other that they decide to take their romance to the next level? _

_This story is as much about Donnie and April each discovering more about his/herself as it is about them discovering each other. Btw, the Donnie and April that I envision here are closer to age 17 and on the cusp of young adulthood._

_**Part 1: Sanctuary**_

April found her way back to the large but non-descript metal door. Rust-stained, it was streaked with dirt accumulated over a century of neglect. Even the door handle was coated black. Sometime in the early 1900s the city had started building another train station - until the project was mothballed, maybe due to WWI messing with budgets. Whatever the reason, the build had stopped and this part of the rail system, including the passenger waiting room on the other side of the door, had long ago become a catacomb.

No one would have given the filthy door a second glance, let alone a first look. April only knew this place was here because of Donnie. Shortly after the Kraang had kidnapped her father, she had been so grief-stricken and utterly beside herself that Donnie's heart broke. He couldn't take seeing April like that, couldn't stand feeling helpless as he watched April's mental state spiral downward.

So, Donatello had broken his own rule of keeping his secret refuge, well, completely secret. He had promised to show April something amazing, rare; something no one else knew about. Even through the shroud of her sadness, Donnie had piqued April's interest. Feeling "emo", the teen had been content to shuffle through sewers and weave through abandoned rail tunnels to this place. It wasn't more than a mile from the Turtles' lair, but the journey was oblique enough that this room felt half-a-city away.

April stared at the dirt-smeared door, remembering how Donnie had showed her how to jimmy the handle to unlatch the stiff, grimed-up lock mechanism. He had asked her to never breathe a word of this place to anyone. He had also promised that if she ever needed a sanctuary, then she was welcome in his.

At April's hand the door swung inward, quietly. Donnie kept the hinges oiled to a fault. She stepped into the high-ceilinged room and sucked in her breath. She'd forgotten how astonishing it was in here. The vaulted ceiling appeared to float on elaborate plaster scrollwork that curled out of hammered iron sconces. A vast trellis of large iron roses soared up each wall. Towards the bottom, the walls pushed outward in large, bold angles, like the background of an Escher lithograph.

Despite the rock and metal and large scale, the room was warm, welcoming. The space was sun-dappled through grates and slats carved along the ceiling. In the ninja-inventor's subterranean travels around the forgotten underworld of NYC, Donnie had recovered fine, if age-worn, furnishings, fabrics, cushions, and interesting curios that now decorated his space. Books and notes were piled everywhere.

The interior design effect was like Steampunk and Art Deco had a baby. It was very Donatello: a sophisticated mix of tough and elegant, with impeccable attention to detail and subtle sensuality because of it. Conspicuously absent was any sort of tech. Donnie had wanted this place as an escape from the stresses and pressures of his usual life, including devices and weaponry.

April slipped into the room, quickly closed the door behind her, and took a deep breath. She was going through with this. 'One step at a time, girl', she told herself. 'Just take it step. By. Step.' She knew the Turtles trained with Master Splinter every day at this hour. She had the place to herself before Donnie was likely to retreat here for time to himself.

The other Turtles never really noticed Donnie's absence, assuming he was in his lab, or off doing whatever geeky, boring stuff they thought he did. If Splinter knew, he understood that his son needed his own space, and respected Donnie's privacy.

Nonetheless, April looked for someplace secluded. She ducked behind a handsome antique dressing screen Donnie had installed. Hands shaking, she quickly undid her ponytail, pulled off her t-shirt, boots, jeans, and tights…and then everything else, folding her things tightly. Then from her backpack she pulled out her change of clothing, slipping it over her head quickly, tucking her feet into light sandals, trying not to think about any of it.

She pushed her street clothes into her pack and left it hidden behind the screen. Then April looked around for a good place to wait until Donnie appeared. Nestled into the wall, half hidden where the room deaked inward, was an overstuffed velvet tram bunk that served as a reading nook. April tucked herself into the nook and prepared to wait, thoughts racing as fast as she was sitting still.

April didn't have to wait too long. She heard the door handle turn and watched as it gently swung open. A battle-weary Donnie entered the room. He looked around to make sure everything was quiet, just as he left it. With the door firmly shut behind him, he reached back to remove his bo staff from its harness, leaning his weapon-of-choice against the wall. Slats of pale yellow sunshine criss-crossed Donnie's shell as he knelt onto the small rug he had placed on the threshold, and April began to question every reason she had for being here.


	3. Chapter 2

**_Part 2: Ablutions_**

Every plan April had evaporated. Frozen in place, she could only watch, captivated, as Donatello began his personal ritual to cleanse and reboot himself mentally as much as physically.

This place was Donnie's haven. Here, he could take his guard down, remove his armour in every way; and just…_be_. Donnie enjoyed his ritual, similar to the meditative calm of executing a Japanese tea ceremony to perfection. The process re-focused him, shifting him from audacious, street-fighting Ninja Turtle to the subtle, introspective Turtle who loved reading, exploring and thinking, thinking, thinking about anything and everything (especially the feisty, funny, lovely April O'Neil) for hours on end.

Half-kneeling on his entrance rug, Donnie leaned over to methodically unbind the wrappings on his left foot, then his right foot, and finally, to untie both his knee pads. Then he did the same with his hand-wraps, removing them and carefully rolling up the sweat-stained fabrics. He placed his elbow pads gently on top of his knee pads: everything orderly.

Donnie continued, unstrapping his weapons harness and belt, pooling the leathers at the foot of his bo staff. April stared, transfixed, at this beguiling creature who suddenly seemed _more_, to have a gravitas that ran against Donnie's usual playful, "aw-shucks" disposition.

His complete lack of kit only emphasized Donnie's self-assurance and poise. She watched his arms and shoulder muscles clench and flex as he reached behind his head to untie his trademark purple mask, the muscles in his neck cording as he tucked his chin.

April had to muffle a sharp intake of air as she watched Donnie remove the strip of heavy purple fabric in a single smooth movement, and discard it like it was a worry onto a wooden desk beside a cute bonsai tree. His nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply, eyes closed, head still slightly bowed.

Completely unfettered, Donatello stood up and retrieved from beside the door a handsome antique porcelain basin, which he filled with clean water from a copper faucet in the wall. He laid the basin down next to a floor grate. Then, in smooth, deliberate movements, Donnie began to wash from his body the dirt and grime of the city sewers.

April's eyes drank in the rivulets of water that trickled over and around Donnie's muscles, his wet skin a glassy bottle green where flashes of sunshine touched it. His shell gleamed iridescent yellow-green and brown - amber like his eyes - as he used a swath of fabric to buff the dust off his back. Donnie then swept the water over himself until the rivulets ran clear and he felt, for lack of a better word, _new_.

April's world came crushing in on her, and she felt nothing but stupid. 'Oh great', she thought to herself, 'There's no way to explain myself out of this one: "Oh, sorry Donnie, yeah, I broke into your secret den of peaceful solitude to spy on you during one of your most intimate moments because I got it into my head that you'd like that." Crap. I've got to just sit tight and wait until he's done here, and then let myself out after he's gone.'

Silently, April shrank back into the shadows. She tried to think boring, simple thoughts, as if Donnie might know from even her brain waves that she was there.

Relaxed, Donnie sauntered over to the cute bonsai, picked up a small pair of shears, and began to rotate the tree in its pot, looking for wayward tufts to trim, a small puzzle to solve for a few minutes. But being ninja, it didn't take long at all for Donnie to get the familiar tingle at the base of his skull telling him he was being watched.

Donatello looked up with his eyes only, not raising his head until he was sure where the intruder was. "Sh_e_ll", Donnie cursed to himself. More than anything, he mourned that someone had found his carefully guarded refuge. He'd have to abandon it now, no longer able to relax safe in the knowledge that no one but him knew the room existed. He prepared to confront the intruder.

Resigned and angry, Donnie moved fluidly into horse stance and grimaced, "Show yourself". He felt the blood drain from his face and almost lost his footing when a very guilty- and nervous-looking April O'Neill slipped from his bunk, her eyes down in shame.


	4. Chapter 3

**_Part 3: Conviction_**

The freckled redhead teen was beautiful, adorable: perfect. Donatello needed a triple take to register that April was wearing a dress (A _dress_!? April _never_ wore a dress!). The light fabric was as pale a yellow as the morning sunlight filtering from above. Button-down and printed with tiny golden flowers, the portrait-neckline dress was simple, demure: and utterly jaw-dropping to Donnie.

He couldn't do anything but try to gulp. April assumed his silence was anger and her words tumbled out, "I'm sorry, Donnie, I know it was wrong to come here, to hide like a thief and invade your privacy, I get it, I do, I'll go now. I hope you're not too mad at me. Really, I'm so sorry."

At this point Donnie forgot everything except how to croak, "Nnn-no! April, please! Stay!"

She looked up at him, curious and inquiring, a small smile blossoming on her posy-pink lips. "I've never seen you without your mask, Donnie. I really like it. You have such amazing amber-coloured eyes."

This comment completely flustered Donnie, who realized his lack of _accoutrements_. He moved swiftly towards the desk and fumbled for his mask.

April beat him to it, and moved the mask behind her back. Donnie reached out again to take back his mask, but lightning-quick April wrapped the amethyst-coloured sash around her head, tying a tight bow. Her now-purple-hooded hazel eyes glowered playfully at Donnie: a challenge.

In his haste to get his mask, Donnie overshot, stopping himself within an inch of April's body, so close he could breathe in her strawberry red hair. Sweet Reason, thought Donatello; she always smelled like Springtime, even in the New York sewers. He had no clue how she did that (OK, her name _was_ April, but still…). He wished he could bottle her scent for himself.

Trying to conceal his clumsiness with humour, Donnie enthused, "Oh, great! I'll tell Master Splinter that I've found my ninja replacement and can vakay to Comicon after all!"

As April sniggered at his joke, Donnie reached behind her head to untie his mask but she caught his wrists, gently lowering them to his side. "Donnie, wait" she said tenderly. Still holding his wrists and using them to push herself upwards, April leaned in to softly kiss Donnie on the mouth.

It wasn't the first time April and Donnie had locked lips. There had been shy forays in the darkened corridors of the lair, exploratory late-night fumblings in Donnie's lab; all of them broke off or interrupted by one of his brothers, or Master Splinter, or even the idea that someone might walk in.

At least, that's what April and Donnie each told themselves. Truthfully, Donnie still couldn't believe that April would choose him over a human boyfriend; and until lately April honestly didn't know if she could fully commit to a cross-species romance. They each had their own laundry list of doubts that, well, wasn't enough to keep them apart, but definitely got in the way of a healthy relationship.

Still, being a smitten, brave and red-blooded teenage girl, April couldn't shake the thought of what lay beyond. Turtle or not, Donnie was strong, graceful, and smelled delicious (especially for someone who lived in a sewer – how'd he do that?). In April's eyes he was irresistibly clever and kind; and balls-to-the-wall funny in all the offbeat ways that funny was to her, too. She respected Donatello, admired him.

What it boiled right down to was: being with Donnie made April want to be a better person. That _had_ to be right. All her self-made arguments against pursuing a relationship with Donnie met their end when she tried repeatedly to compare her life to "normal life" in the world above. Yeah, he was a turtle, yeah, this was an anthropocentric taboo; but she felt more Turtle than human a lot these days.

April recognized that Donnie, his brothers, Leo, Mikey and Raph, and their 'father' Splinter were now as much her "pack" as her human relatives. She wasn't like other girls – how many other girls were training as ninja under the tutelage of a humanoid sensei rat in the company of four humanoid warrior turtles? And at the end of the day, she knew that human guys could behave in ways that were inhumane.

In this respect at least, Donnie was miles above the crowd of potential _bona fide_ human suitors.

Abstractly, April knew that there were outstanding men in the above-world (her kidnapped dad being one of them); but the below-world was her reality _now_. She also knew that girls got judged no matter what they chose for themselves. She was going to do what felt right for her, and answer to herself, whatever happened after she did that thing that she was about to do.


	5. Chapter 4

**_Part 4: Inception_**

So, it was with great thought and care that April had decided to make the next move, something she was pretty sure Donnie would be up for, even if it might freak him out. April was certainly freaked out, but at least she'd had time to parcel up her anxiety and file it away psychologically. She knew this foray wouldn't necessarily be easy for the two of them, even if it would be lots of fun.

April continued kissing Donnie, pressing close so there wasn't a space between their bodies. She moved Donnie's hands to the small of her back, encouraging him to explore as she did the same. She relished the feel of his warm skin with no bo staff or weapons kit in her way as she caressed first his broad shoulders, then over the smooth, strong bones of his shell.

Donnie moved his hands to cup April's face and kiss her deeply, lifting her upward with his desire. As much as he loved this moment, he knew it would end soon, the way it always did.

What he couldn't shake was April in a dress. That was new; special…

…Unless it was laundry day?

But even as his emotional brain offered dumb excuses, his genius brain had worked out that April was a strategic young woman who did things for a particular, usually smart, reason (le sigh Donnie loved that about her):

April had snuck in; no one else knew either of them was here. She was out of her usual jeans-and-baseball-shirt outfit, wearing a beautiful dress, looking lovelier than he'd ever imagined, for no one else but him. She was kissing him passionately…

This is where Donnie's thinking skitzed out because the logical next steps were too mind-blowing for him to seriously contemplate. All he could do was grab that shred of hope and hang on to it for dear life; and trust that April knew what the shell she was doing.

As if on cue, April kicked off her sandals and, with Donnie's hands buried in her red hair and the ties of his mask, began to casually undo the front of her dress. "April! What tha'? Ww-what are you doing?!" Donnie gasped, mildly panicking.

Continuing her work, April just shrugged like she was making a sandwich and said, deadpan, "Well, it's not fair that your weapons kit is off but mine's still on."

She was playing it cool but her heart was racing, and she knew Donnie could tell; which was salvation because that insight kept Donnie from going insane with overwhelm. In an eye-blink the pale yellow fabric of April's summer dress fell away, pooling on the ground around her feet.


	6. Chapter 5

**_Part 5: Sanctity_**

At first Donnie couldn't look. He continued kissing April like nothing had happened, too freaked out to deal. But if he couldn't see her, it didn't mean he couldn't feel her undressed body pressed tightly against his. With a start, he realized she was still wearing his mask.

In spite of himself, he cracked a charming gap-toothed smile. Only then did Donnie pull back to drink in the strong, smart young woman he had pined over and loved for over a year.

He couldn't believe that April looked even lovelier wearing just a mask (_his mask_!) than draped in her summer dress. April smiled up at him, wondering just how stupid she looked wearing an oversized purple Turtle headband. She hoped to god it only made her look cute in Donnie's eyes.

Intellectually, Donnie understood the appeal of human bodies, especially in the context of primate evolution, of course. Yet he also appreciated the limits of the mutagen that had transformed him into something more human than turtle. It didn't matter to Donnie whether April was petite or curvy. Physically, he was enraptured by April's strength and endurance, her body's speed and skill.

Of course, Donnie was also a scientist, an inventor, and curious above all; he did his research and he did it well. Even if he never really thought it would happen, he wanted to understand what made human women tick when they; well, wanted to express how much they cared about a guy. If he ever got the chance, Donnie was going to show his girl just how good he knew how to make her feel.

It never occurred to him to expect something in return. Just being able to bliss April out would be enough of a triumph and a rush. If Donnie was honest with himself, he didn't think he was ready to be that vulnerable with her, to risk soul-crushing rejection from the person he loved most in the world.

So when April emerged as perfection from her dress, Donnie thought only to guide her down onto the soft cushions scattered about the oriental carpet and kneel beside her.

April thought this was going pretty well: Donnie hadn't bolted or kicked her out, and she'd held her ground. She was going for what she wanted, even if she was scared stiff by her desire. She and Donnie locked eyes for several long seconds, silently checking in with each, agreeing to continue.

Instinctively Donnie knew he felt intimidated, wanted some sort of privacy while he stepped blindly into what he wanted to try. In a brainwave, Donnie slowly reached back and loosened the ties of his mask around April's mop of shiny red hair. He gently rotated the eye-holes towards the back; April was totally blindfolded. Now she couldn't see what he was going to do with her, she could just _feel_ it.

Everywhere Donnie's mouth went left April's skin flushed. There didn't seem to be an inch of her that he wasn't determined to visit, pay homage to, thrill. Parts of her body she never even thought about (_her ear lobe!_) or considered remotely enticing (_her ribs?_) suddenly became incredible, amazing, and special as each was gifted with Donnie's rapt attention.

As Donnie made his tour, he gently moved April onto her side. He spent the better part of an hour tracing with kisses and fingertips the vertebrae along her back, one by one, from the nape of her neck, to the base of her spine, journeying across the high blades of her hipbones, fascinated by her curves. Enthralled, Donatello contoured her scapulae, each one, to him, the milky, muscular base of an invisible seraphim wing. He could see how April's body had built up in response to all her hard training these past many months.

Finally satisfied, Donnie relaxed April onto her back again and went to work elsewhere. April lost all track of time. Her thoughts swirled in colours and shapes that made no sense, like some crazy, aphrodisiac screensaver graphic. Now and again she'd beg Donnie to come back up and kiss her, so she could confirm that this was happening - was real.

Hours later, exhausted but delirious with discovery and romance, April and Donnie fell into a cat-napping heap.

After a while, April woke up to watch the chest of a still-sleeping Donnie rise and fall, constant and strong. During the fray his mask had slipped off April's face; she smiled to see it lying by Donnie's face now, one purple end splashed across his forehead.

As Donnie slumbered on, April grinned to herself, 'All right, Donatello-_san_; now it's time to see how mad-skilled _I_ am at this stuff.'


	7. Chapter 6

**_Part 6: Absolution_**

Curious and purposeful, April began to explore Donnie's skin, tracing her fingers along his wrist; into the crook of his elbow; over the muscles defining his shoulder. Gently, carefully she brushed the palm of her hand over the solid plates shielding Donnie's torso. April pushed through her timidity to walk her fingers along the outline of his shell where it connected to his skin, fascinated with the contrast of soft skin against rigid carapace where both melded together.

Donnie stirred, and was quiet again. With the same hand, April continued her journey, intoxicated by her discovery of the new, giddy with her explorations.

She contoured the muscles of Donnie's thigh. Even if she'd had no previous experience with boys, she of course knew what would be there, but wasn't in Donnie. She also knew what made normal turtles tick here (April did her research, too). She was exhilarated to see how far this held for her Turtle.

Just as her fingers lightly meandered upwards, Donnie snapped awake, oriented and terrified by what he realized April was doing. "April, NO!" Wide-eyed, he caught her wrist, and tried to pull her back up to him. "April, you…You don't have to do that. I'm not…it's not…I don't expect… just…Please. Stop. Come back up here".

April wasn't buying it. "Donnie, that's not fair", she softly chided. Then she dropped her voice low: "You had me: exposed, vulnerable…" Her voice caught in her throat; "…out of my shell", she finally giggled nervously. Then, serious again, the redhead husked, "I want to do the same for you. It's my turn now…and your turn to let go and open up for me".

Donnie couldn't speak, so deeply conflicted and afraid that this part of him would repel April, destroying any shred of a pretense that he might be a human counterpart to her. April didn't care, however, having firmly decided long ago that she was embracing Donnie as he was on the outside as well as on the inside.

Shifting to her knees to firmly place a silencing finger over his mouth, eyes locked on his, April very deliberately reached back with her exploring hand despite the world of tension in Donnie's body.

As her fingers roved she felt the ninja relax in spite of his nerves, heard an almost-silent breath escape Donnie's chest. April looked down, exhilarated and absorbed in discovering what she could do with him, where she could take him.

When she looked up again, April saw Donnie watching her with a mix of amazement that she'd not left yet, and terror that she'd finally realize what he was and bolt forever. Despite knowing that if April fumbled his heart, it would shatter, in that moment Donnie made the choice to trust her entirely.

April resumed, listening to and feeling an enamoured Donnie respond to her. Within minutes Donnie surrendered completely, unable to hold onto his fear and worry, unable to make any sense of what he was feeling being done with him for the first time in his life. The roaring in his head increased, deafening, until; in his mind there was perfect silence, against which he _felt_ the sweetest, sharpest, brightest * pin-drop * ripple outward and echo through every measure of his body.

Then his world went quiet again, and he was a mote of an atom of a molecule that was part of everything, everywhere, all at once. All Donatello could feel was utter peace and total completion.

"Booyakasha", whispered a smiling, very self-satisfied, April O'Neil; and, as reply, she was gifted with the laziest of gap-toothed grins.

.

**_C'est ça. Pour maintenant._**

_._

**_Author's Notes:_**

_Too many times a great storyline gets tanked because the romantic sub-plot becomes the focus and the audience becomes exhausted with the "will-they, won't-they?" tension of watching two people skirt around their feelings for each other. The same risk is true of the Donnie/April romance story. _

_T__his (and the pesky cross-species thing) presented an interesting challenge to see if Donnie and April might consummate their affections for each other in a way that was believable and acceptable to the reader; __and__ didn't trip up the main story. _

_Here, Donnie and April's experience is about authenticity, vulnerability, desire, trust and acceptance. These are universal themes that, for whatever reason, few people seem discuss with respect to, erm, well, sex; which is a shame, because dealing with those feelings in healthy ways is really important (not in the least because it makes things [yes of course *those* things] lots more fun, right?). _

_Whether Donnie and April's romance goes long-term isn't the point. Rather, the point is the deep formative experience that they share together, that helps each of them to grow, and hopefully imparts warm memories when they're each old and gray. That is, if the Kraang and Shredder let them live that long._

_Anyway, thanks to those who posted reviews as each chapter went up; it was really exciting to get your live feedback. New reviews are absolutely welcome, especially if you have reflections to share on the story's themes._


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